


Arthur's Choice

by facetofcathy



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: 100-1000 Words, Bisexual Character, Future Fic, Multi, Poly, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-06
Updated: 2009-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 04:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetofcathy/pseuds/facetofcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short piece of future!fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arthur's Choice

Arthur had been about five, the first time he'd stormed and raged at his nursemaid and told her he was the Prince of Camelot, and he didn't have to do what she said. His father had told him that he wasn't yet named Prince and Heir, and he never would be if he couldn't accept his responsibilities gracefully. His nursemaid had petted his golden hair and had told him she still loved him even if he was a terrible little boy sometimes.

~*~

In the fullness of time, his father did name him Prince and Heir, and placed a crown heavy with expectation on his brow. As soon as he returned to his chambers, he snatched the thing off his head and tossed it at a wall sconce. It spun around the wrought iron bracket a few times and then clanked to a halt and hung there, gaudy gold against the black iron and grey stone wall.

"You're terrible," Merlin said, shaking his head.

"But you love me anyway, right?" Arthur said and grinned, wide and brash and certain.

~~~***~~~

"You will be king one day, Arthur, and a king must rule with a clear eye and a firm resolve," his father said. His father said things like that a lot, so much so, that Arthur couldn't even remember the first time he'd heard it.

~*~

"I trust you, Sire. I trust you to be a good king and to do what's right," Gwen said. She laid her hand on his heart for the briefest of moments, and Arthur knew he could never hear that often enough.

~~~***~~~

A man had once set two goblets in front of him and had told him to choose—choose his life over Merlin's—choose the whim of chance over his own will. He'd made his choice and had raised the goblet to his lips.

~*~

His father slapped his leather-clad palm on the table and shouted, "Arthur, you must choose. You have responsibilities to the people, to the Kingdom, to Camelot. You must stop being so willful and choose one of these noble women to wed."

Arthur picked up the golden goblet full of grass-green wine. He let the scent of summer tease his nostrils, and his lips curved into a smile. "I will make my choice," he said, and Uther smiled at him, relief and proud victory warring for dominance in his eyes.

~~~***~~~

"It is not seemly," the sword master had said. He'd sounded like he'd said it a few times already. The knight Morgana had charmed or bullied, more likely bullied, into teaching her had slowly backed out of the practice room. Morgana had been drawing herself up to her full teen-aged height, sword still held in a firm grip, preparing to argue her case.

Arthur had sent up a silent prayer that his voice wouldn't crack and then he'd said, "It is if I say it is."

~*~

"Arthur, really," Uther said and his voice was tired and strained, but no more tired than Arthur's ears, so he spared his father no sympathy. "It's not seemly."

Arthur grinned, wide and brash and certain. "It is if I say it is."

~~~***~~~

The wedding was as extravagant as anyone could expect. The servants of Camelot laboured for weeks and the wine flowed and the hall rang with song and the air was filled with the scent of flowers crushed under dancers' feet. The scorned daughters of the neighbouring kingdoms fluttered in their silk and satin and poured acid words into each other's ears. The Knights of Camelot shone brightly in their scarlet cloaks as they sought to offer consolation. Uther sat smiling at the head of the table, gracious finally, in defeat to his son's will.

Arthur and his bride sat beside the king. She was sober and composed, the Lady Guinevere, and she took the prospect of being Queen seriously. Her wine sat warming in her goblet, barely touched. Arthur lifted her goblet to his nose, teasing himself with the rich aroma of wine the colour of heart's blood. He tipped the contents out into his own goblet, letting the liquid swirl together. He raised the goblet and let his gaze travel along the crowd of servants leaning against the wall. When he found the right pair of blue, blue eyes he smiled, wide and brash and certain, and drank the goblet dry.

~*~

The bed in the chambers of the royal heir was extravagant, wide and deep and soft. It was hung round with scarlet curtains and covered in the finest of white linen. Arthur, Prince of Camelot shared this bed with the woman who trusted him to always do what was right and the man who loved him even when he was terrible. He had made his choice.


End file.
